Pulling Rank
by Bruklei
Summary: "Was he always like that? A person isn't that heartless from the get go." A series of vignettes that look into how Erol became the most feared man in Haven and the Baron's right hand man.
1. Prologue

_**Edit: **Hola, lots of changes made ^^ Revised this chapter quite a bit and the revisions may continue. Also new name. Yay! I'll get to work on the next chapter right away (I'm so sorry for those that are waiting) Enjoy ^^_

_**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters, places, and/or objects in this fic. They belong to Naughty Dog.  
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They had finally won. It had been a long, hard battle that took its toll. Parts of the city were reduced to rubble and lives had been lost or utterly upturned, but at least they won.

_ 'So why doesn't it feel that way?'_ Torn questioned, swirling the contents of his cup before taking a swig. He turned his chair and surveyed the bar and its inhabitants.

The victory was felt by the city as a whole, the core of the celebration being held at the newly christened Naughty Ottsel, with fireworks and drinks being passed around. Regardless though, the enthusiasm was curbed by the apparent losses. Countless numbers of the Underground had been chalked up to the thousands of casualties. The remaining members sat in huddled groups taking deep swigs of their drinks, eyes glazed over and brimming with loss. Then there was Haven's heroes themselves. Jak, who was currently reminiscing with Keira and Daxter, had been forever changed by the dark eco experiments. Ashelin, sitting in a booth away from the crowd, lost her father and was now the Baron (Daxter tried calling her "Baroness" but a heated glare had silenced the ottsel) through succession. Torn himself almost lost Ashelin and the war in the progress. Everything considered, he couldn't tell who in the crowd was most damaged. He turned back, resting his elbows on the bar and closed his eyes, letting out a sigh.

_'We killed Praxis, Krew, and Kor, while Erol went nuts and blew himself up, but it doesn't feel like we completely won…'_ he thought tiredly, then paused at the mention of one person's name. _'Erol…'_ The late KG Commander and champion racer had confused Torn the most. For as long as he knew him, the man always had a handle on things. He was level headed, albeit sadistic, but there was no notion that there was a screw loose. Then there was Jak. As soon as he came, there was a complete shift in personality, but why? Torn studied the elf in question in the mirror; he didn't look that impressive, at least at first glace. No longer able to contain it, he got up and approached Jak.

"…and remember when Lurkers were the things to fear? Oh man, can't believe our thinking back then!" Daxter regaled, letting out a loud bark of laughter that was joined by Keira's and Jak's. Torn cringed, itching to shoot the ottsel, but held it in and laid a hand on Jak's shoulder.

"Hey Jak, got a second?"

"Sure, what's up?" Jak regarded Torn, turning to face him.

"I'm curious about something, as I'm sure everyone is…why did Erol target you?" Torn questioned.

"I'm not sure. I mean, I was under the impression the guy was already off his rocker, but maybe it was the added victories over him," Jak replied, scratching the back of his head. Torn nodded, judging what he said to be true.

"That sounds like him. You could bruise that pride of his just by looking at him funny," he replied, "Couldn't tell you how many KG were sent to the hospital because o f him." The group fell back into silence, each studying their drinks or corner of the building. Naughty Ottsel was mostly empty by this point, 'Haven's Saviors' and a few dozing drunks were all that was left and Torn had resumed his seat at the bar. Keira, who kept her head down at the mention of Erol, shifted then hesitantly turned towards Torn.

"Torn?"

He grunted in reply, not even looking at her.

"You knew Erol long before this, right?" she nervously asked, pulling at her fingers, then rubbing her arm.

"Yeah, and?" He had a feeling he knew where this was going, but wished she'd get to the point already. Keira's face grew pink and she continued shifting about.

"Right, well…was he always like that? A person isn't that heartless from the get go."

Her question had gotten everyone's undivided attention and they now looked at Torn expectantly. He surveyed them each in turn, his gaze lingering on Ashelin who nodded. He groaned and rubbed his eyes before relenting what he knew.

"Look guys, I'm not sure what you're expecting to hear," he started, eyeing Jak in particular, "But Keira is right. The man you dealt with was but the leftovers of an orphaned boy who was forced into the KG. With the KG, you go in like an everyday average Joe Schmoe but come out a mindless drone that does all he can to survive and further himself. If there were any friendships, they never lasted long in regards to promotion and benefits. Essentially that's what happened to Erol although as you noticed, he became something far worse."


	2. First Meeting

_Holy crap it's an update! And a short one at that...sorry bout that. Words aren't coming to me with any of my stories, fic or original. I'll attempt to do routing edits and such, and of course get onto writing when my muse decides to return from vacation ^^;_

_I hope everyone had an awesome Christmas and they have an amazing New Years. Don't do anything stupid, kay guys?_

**Thank you to those that have reviewed and added this story to their Alert list, but special thanks to DarkOne for pointing out the shortness of the previous version of this chapter. Again, I apologize for how short it still is. I promise the next ones will be of a longer length.**

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They were in the middle of drills wen the ruffian was dragged towards them, yelling obscenities and fighting his 'escorts'. At first no one paid attention to the boys' approach, continuing to spar one another.

_Duck, swerve, swing_

Their current commander (bets were going around regarding how long he'd hold the position; the most confident being 3 weeks. Least was 2 days) brought their attention to him, shouting at them to halt and gradually the men came to rest, dropping whoever their opponent was to the ground and limping into formation. They kept their eyes forward, occasionally peeking at the mass of rags and bruises, who glared back at them. Torn was the only one who matched him in glance. The boy glowered at him, his scowl growing large and revealing a few of his teeth, as well as a couple missing ones. Torn's curiosity piqued a little at this, wondering what exactly brought all of the hatred into and out of the boy.

"Men," boomed the commander, bringing him out of his reverie, "this waste of skin was pulled out of the Slums for criminal acts against the Baron. Now, I know y'all are wondering why he's here instead of the prison. Given the low recruitment in the past couple years, the Baron wanted him tossed here instead." He paused and looked over the officers, noticing that they were all fidgeting, ready to burst with activity. Torn was equally eager, but kept still although he couldn't help tapping his fingers against his leg. What'd the kid do, launch a rocket at the Baron's palace? Slip poison in his food? Make out with Ashelin? No doubt it was awful to be thrown in the KG and not prison.

"Now that introductions are over with, get back to your drills and be sure to show the kid how things are done. Understood?"

"YES SIR!"


End file.
